


Sway With Me

by Arkada



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Post-Mission Fic, Team as Family, formal wear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkada/pseuds/Arkada
Summary: Joe and Nicky don’t get to dance together at the evening’s gala, since they’re too busy performing an assassination. They make do with the hotel room safehouse and Nile’s Spotify Premium account.But Andy is competitive, and Nile was a gymnast in high school; they're not about to let the boys show off unopposed.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 50
Kudos: 202





	1. Joe & Nicky

**Author's Note:**

> None of the source material, musical or otherwise, is mine.

“Who the hell invented high heels, and is it too late to hang them out a window?” Andy groans, and drops onto the couch to rip her shoes off and fling them across the hotel room with a vengeance.

“Frenchmen,” Joe informs her, watching with amusement. “Yet another thing Booker needs to answer for.”

Nicky snorts, closing the door behind them. “We don’t need an excuse to hang Booker out a window.”

Nile wiggles her toes smugly in her cute and practical flats, and wanders over to a mirror to start pulling pins out of her hair.

Which is the first time she spots the spray of blood across her cheeks. “Eww,” she groans. “You guys didn’t tell me it got me in the face.”

Andy raises her head to look Nile’s dress up and down - sleek, floor-length gold that shows off her shoulders - and points at the massive slash of dried gore staining it from hip to neckline. “How did you think it _didn’t_ get you in the face?”

“ _Mi dispiace_ ,” Nicky says. “I was in a hurry.”

“He will buy you a new one,” Joe says, and slinks up behind Nicky to kiss the nape of his neck and settle both hands on Nicky’s hips.

Their formalwear is still immaculate despite leaving the gala to camp on a roof for two hours waiting for their target to be in position. Nicky looks like a timeless classic: a three-piece suit in charcoal grey that highlights how narrow his waist is, with a green tie and honest-to-God pocket square bringing out his eyes. Joe, on the other hand, is a miracle of modern tailoring in a dark red with bronze accents that make his skin practically glow, and Nile’s pretty sure he borrowed her eyeliner.

Why they get to look so good after sniping the head of an international human trafficking cartel is - well, it’s not a mystery, Nile knows exactly _why_ , but it’s still not fair. It’s Nile and Andy who ended up in the splash zone after luring their target into a secluded corner with no witnesses. And _Andy_ got to come out spotless too, because _she’s_ had a thousand years to learn when Nicky’s about to take a shot and step out of range. By the time Nile worked out she should probably follow suit, the target had a hole in his neck and his carotid artery was all over Nile’s dress.

While Nile’s been indulging her jealousy, Joe and Nicky have started swaying on the spot, Nicky smiling softly, Joe with his nose buried in Nicky’s hair, both of them with their eyes closed. It’s sweet and adorable and it makes Nile happy just to see how happy they are.

Andy flips them off while unzipping her dress one-handed - stunning silver with a hint of blue, slit up the side almost indecently high. “You two had an entire party to dance at,” she says. “Knock it off.”

“ _You_ had an entire party to dance at,” Joe corrects, without looking up. “ _We_ had an assassination to perform. I didn’t get to so much as touch my husband all evening.”

“A travesty,” Nicky agrees. “You were more handsome than usual tonight.”

Joe comes back with a line of Arabic poetry, and Nile grins. Watching the two of them go off on each other is like the best kind of tennis match.

Nicky returns in the same language, but shorter and simpler. Joe presses a hand over Nicky’s heart, and dials up the intensity with a whole paragraph.

“You’re both a total snack,” Nile throws in, when Joe pauses to compose some more. “But what I think Andy is trying to say is that she needs her bedtime.”

“Oh, screw you, kid,” Andy says, grinning, recognizing the bait and making it clear she’s choosing to bite. “I’ll outlast all three of you and you know it.”

Nile winks at the boys. “Then I guess you’re good.”

She doesn’t quite see how it happens, but after another moment Joe and Nicky are facing each other, Joe’s hands back on Nicky’s hips while Nicky plays with Joe’s curls. They keep trading soft little endearments, running out in Arabic and switching smoothly to Italian after a while.

Nile goes back to taking down her updo. Jokes aside, she actually _would_ like to go to bed in the foreseeable future.

Andy stands up from the couch and stretches her arms over her head, unzipped dress hanging precariously off her body. She swipes Nile’s clutch from the table where she dropped it on coming in, and tosses it across the room towards her. “Catch.”

Hands full of pins and braids hanging down into her face, Nile manages somehow.

“I put some wet wipes in there for you,” Andy says, and squats down to root through a go-bag dropped beside the table. “Guess you didn’t notice you could have got that shit off you any time.”

Nile rolls her eyes and digs through the clutch. She had indeed not noticed Andy’s extra supplies, but they’re handy now. “Gee, thanks for telling me.”

Nile fishes her phone out of the way, dropping it on a little shelf under the wall mirror, and yanks about three wipes from the packet. They scrub off blood and makeup equally well, each one going into the bin progressively less disgusting until she feels like the hotel won’t need to burn the sheets in the morning.

While Nile was occupied, Andy’s managed to strip out of her dress and find a pajama shirt that hangs down to her thighs. “Copley said we got away clean, so it’s as safe a night as any to settle down,” she announces, dropping back onto the couch. “You might as well get into something comfortable.”

“Perfectly comfortable right here, thank you,” Joe says, and slips his thumbs under the edge of Nicky’s waistcoat.

Nicky hums, and side-eyes Nile’s phone. “Can you find us something to dance to?”

“Sure,” Nile says, before she’s quite considered _how_ to find music that a pair of thousand-year-old immortals would like. Still, she has faith in Spotify Premium.

Nile starts searching and manages to trip over a playlist called _Modern Medieval_ , which she opens immediately. Her first thought is that the creator of this playlist doesn’t have a clue what the word ‘medieval _’_ means, but there’s some cool-sounding stuff in here all the same - original soundtracks for _The Witcher_ , _Outlander_ , and _Game of Thrones_ ; stuff by artists with names like Ludovico Einaudi and Corvus Corax; and various mashups of pop songs and actual period music. Nile shrugs. It’s worth a shot, and if Joe and Nicky hate it, they can stream their own music next time.

Right away, Nile can tell the first track is perfect: lively and stirring enough to be worth doing more than swaying to, but with a slightly darker thread in it that suits two men who just murdered the head of a human trafficking ring. 

Joe and Nicky listen with their eyes closed for a few bars, not moving, until Nicky starts tapping out the beat on Joe’s shoulder and Joe nods his head along with the flow of the music. 

They separate and start removing their suit jackets - _ah, shit’s getting real_ , Nile thinks, and suppresses a giggle. Joe straightens his tie, making sure the knot is in the exact center of the shirt collar; Nicky smiles fondly, then slides his tie straight off and pops his top button, and then the next two after that. Joe sighs, but lets Nicky take his jacket and drape it neatly over a chair, on top of his own. Nicky returns, leaving about three feet between himself and Joe. Joe extends a hand in the space between them, palm up.

“Your hand?” he asks.

Nicky inclines his head, and lays his hand in Joe’s. “My heart.”

“Get a move on!” Andy heckles them. “At this rate we’ll be here until next winter.”

“Hush, Andromache,” Nicky says. Andy rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, and she _does_ shut up.

Joe glances away from Nicky to nod at Nile’s phone. “Start it again, please.”

Nile sets the phone down with the speaker pointed at the room, hits pause, skips backwards, and hits play.

Joe and Nicky begin with a slow, formal bow, keeping that distance between them, and then perform a graceful rotation around their joined hands. A pivot, swapping right hands for left, and they circle back the other way.

It doesn’t stay slow and formal for long.

The music picks up and they move with it, meeting in the middle in a symmetrical hold of hands on shoulder and hip. Nicky’s eyes are bright and gleeful; for once, Joe’s the one keeping them steady and measured. They rotate again, drift apart, come back together in a different hold; for a beat, they stop in a similar position to when this all started, Nicky’s back against Joe’s chest.

And that’s when the music swells and they _really_ get going.

Nicky turns to face Joe, and in a smooth continuation of that movement, Joe lifts Nicky clean off the floor with an arm behind his back, and spins them both like an Olympic figure skater. Nicky slides easily down Joe’s body and they’re off. Andy kicks the go-bag out of the way.

They’re so perfectly synchronized that Nile can’t even tell who’s leading. Nicky pours himself backwards, and Joe’s already there to catch him. Joe steps forward into Nicky’s space, which Nicky has neatly vacated for him. They segue into a series of twists, going under each other’s arms, and whenever one of them puts a hand out the other always meets it halfway.

Back and forth and back and forth, and yeah, they’ve loved each other for nine hundred years, and it shows. They’re staring into each other’s eyes now, Nicky wearing a challenging little smile like _come on, we can do better than this_ , and Joe, like always, gives Nicky what he wants.

This time Nicky lifts Joe, bends them both down almost to the floor, and swings upright again in a move that makes Nile’s abs hurt just watching it. Joe lands on his feet light as a cat, already stepping into the next move: Nicky’s left hand in Joe’s right, they cross the room with a complex series of steps, turn on a dime right before hitting the wall, swap hands so Joe’s left hand is in Nicky’s right, and work their way back again. The whole time, they never take their eyes off each other.

They dance like they’re flying, swift and fluid, passion in every step. Nile sees a dozen different styles go past - the romance of a tango, the elegance of a waltz, the drama of jazz. They swing dance for one bar, and in the next they look like Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. The music doesn’t lend itself to any of that, but somehow they make it work anyway. They spin apart, Joe pulls Nicky in, and Nicky transforms it into a leap. Joe catches him easily and steals a kiss along the way, making Nicky laugh.

One final turn, and they stop dead in perfect time with the final note of the track.

Nile knows she’s staring, but they were definitely showing off, so it only seems fair. There’s a pink flush on Nicky’s cheeks, Joe breathing deeply to recover, and they’re both grinning sappily. Nicky whispers something as he straightens Joe’s tie for him. In response, Joe slides a hand around the back of Nicky’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

Nile sighs longingly, thinking of all the TikTok videos and Instagram feeds that will never get a chance to break the internet.

“Are you finished?” Andy drawls, teasing. “The way you’re acting, anyone would think you two hadn’t danced in years. Kid, turn that thing off before they get any bright ideas about starting again.”

“Oh, yeah-” Nile fumbles to unlock her phone screen and hit pause on the next track.

“What if I wasn’t finished?” Nicky says, staring right into Joe’s eyes.

Joe smirks. “Yeah, boss, what if he wasn’t finished?”

“Tough,” Andy says. She picks up the hotel room phone and throws it at them. Nicky, without looking away from Joe, catches it effortlessly. “Somebody order dinner.”

By prior agreement, Nile looks up the number of the pizza place she and Nicky scoped out before the gala. “Oops,” she says facetiously, hitting play on the way to opening the browser. “My bad.”

Andy gives an equally facetious groan of dismay. “When did this whole three-on-one thing start happening? Show some goddamned respect for your elders.”

“If we did that, you’d kill us,” Joe says reasonably.

“And then we wouldn’t order you pizza,” Nicky adds. “Do you have that number, Nile?”

Nile reads it out, and they all behave while Nicky orders four pizzas and a garlic bread, because pulling off an assassination is surprisingly hungry work. But the second Nicky hangs up, he tosses the phone back to Andy and lets Joe sweep him off his feet again, laughing as they spiral around the room to the sounds of the _Good Omens_ title music.

Skirting the dance floor, Nile makes her way to the couch. Andy pulls up her legs to make room, dropping them immediately back into Nile’s lap once she’s seated.

“Those are _some_ blisters, huh,” Nile says, eyeing the damage done to Andy’s feet. She wonders if Andy ever forgot all the _small_ aches and pains a body can go through. Did she realize before or after losing her immortality that her feet had been healing themselves with every step? “I have shea butter somewhere. And aloe vera.”

“Resourceful.”

Andy makes no move to let Nile up, which Nile really should have seen coming. She’s probably going to be here until the pizza arrives. She didn’t manage to change out of her bloodstained dress before getting pinned down, but she won’t feel properly clean without a long shower anyway. As long as she hides from the delivery guy’s line of sight, she’ll be fine until after dinner.

Joe and Nicky continue to provide the evening’s entertainment, moving on to the next track in the playlist with no signs of stopping any time soon. Nile pulls her eyes away to watch Andy watch them for a little while. Their deeply respected elder wears a disarmingly soft smile, chin propped in her hand, fingers of the other hand tapping out the beat on her bare thigh.

Andy senses Nile watching her, and looks over to meet her gaze. That soft smile sharpens into mischief. “Bet you with a little practice we could show them a thing or two.”

Nile arches an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “They’ve got how long on us as dance partners?”

Andy waves aside the advantage of a paltry few centuries of experience. “The thing about Joe and Nicky is they last went out dancing in the fifties, and haven’t bothered to pick up any moves since. I, on the other hand, am not a hermit, and you’re… you.”

Nile nods thoughtfully. “I _am_ me,” she says, overplaying the gravitas and making Andy chuckle. “And…” She lowers her voice so the boys can’t overhear, not that they’re paying attention to anything except each other. “I was also a pretty decent high school gymnast.”

“Then you’re in?” Andy asks, holding out her hand for a fist bump.

Nile glances to the side to watch Nicky dip Joe halfway to the floor. If they think that’s impressive, they’re going to have a _lot_ of catching up to do when Nile teaches Andy how to chuck her into a somersault.

“They’re going _down_ ,” Nile promises, and meets Andy’s fist with hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who like music, [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/44IO96SxUsGFip8W8eNFXK?si=D32E63lRQIekj-5_JExr7A) is a Spotify playlist of the sorts of things I was listening to when I wrote this.


	2. Andy & Nile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apx6B4qvE9s&app=desktop) is the track that Andy and Nile dance to.

Andy, Joe and Nicky get twitchy whenever Nile compares them to the American military - and, the longer Nile looks at it from the perspective of an adult outsider and not a recruit straight out of high school, the more she agrees with them. But one thing is definitely true in both her old life and her new one: privacy is a goddamn myth.

Nile’s accustomed to sleeping in barracks of a dozen-plus people, so she’s comfortable with the way the others like to sleep in one room by preference, not just circumstance. She doesn’t often brush her teeth without Joe reaching past her to grab the mouthwash, or get dressed without Andy leaning in to ask if Nile borrowed her boots again. If she’s up early, Nicky’s always up before her with a mug of tea waiting. Nile and Joe might be the only two watching the movie - something in English if Nile wins the coin toss, something in a language Joe’s trying to teach her if he does - but Andy and Nicky are usually in the room with them anyway, Nicky lost in a book while Andy sharpens some weapon or other. Joe sketches all of them constantly, so at any moment Nile could look up and find whatever stupid expression she was making suspended in charcoal.

It’s nice. Still less than a year into her immortality, the last thing Nile wants to feel is alone, so rubbing elbows with the others at every turn suits her just fine.

Most of the time.

It’s nice to feel surrounded by people who Get It when Nile’s confronting some new crisis. It’s hella inconvenient when she and Andy are trying to keep a secret from the boys.

About a month ago Joe and Nicky laid down some dance moves after a successful mission that involved a truly majestic display of both sniping and formalwear. And while they were still dancing, Andy somehow convinced Nile that the two of them could do it better. Nile, fortunately, convinced Andy that they definitely couldn’t do it better without some practice, which led them to the current situation of needing to sneak away to work out some sufficiently badass choreography.

But Joe and Nicky don’t like it when Andy vanishes inexplicably, and they’re not wild about Nile disappearing without a trace either. To combat this, Andy ruthlessly pulls rank and declares they’re running all the errands until further notice, buying her and Nile at least an hour a week to play around.

They have a carefully chosen song, courtesy of Nile’s earnest Google searches for good dance music with a bit of athleticism to it. That led her to Cirque du Soleil and a very enjoyable two days of trawling through their entire back catalogue on YouTube.

At the end of it she presented her favorite track to Andy, who watched the video with a nostalgic smile. “I remember these guys,” she said fondly. “I spent a fantastic weekend in Toronto about fifteen years ago-” and she proceeded to fill Nile in with way too many details about how flexible circus acrobats are.

Well, Nile’s no acrobat, but she was a more than passable gymnast for three years of high school, so once she remembers how to make her body do the thing she can pull off a respectable number of impressive flips. Andy teaches her a little bit of everything, from Regency-era ballroom dances to ancient Chinese festivals. Nile introduces Andy to the Chicago cultural institution that is hiplet, and after a minor incident where Andy nearly breaks a toe trying to get en pointe, they fold it seamlessly into their sequence with the rest.

“I think we’re ready,” Andy says after a particularly intense practice. She and Nile are lying side-by-side in the grass out the back of the latest safehouse, catching their breath and swapping a water bottle back and forth. Joe and Nicky are - allegedly - taking an afternoon nap, which hopefully means they remain ignorant of Andy and Nile’s conspiracy.

“I don’t think it’s getting any better,” Nile agrees. “What’s the plan, boss?”

Andy grins up at the sky.

~

Joe and Nicky dancing is always a spectacle, Nile is coming to realize, with all the beauty of classic Hollywood and the endless love of ancient Grecian poetry. Their latest effort ends with Nicky bent backwards halfway to the floor, held up solely by Joe’s hand at his waist. Andy pretends to yawn while Nile claps enthusiastically, and bounces up from the couch.

“Can you guys show me how to do that?”

Nicky hums thoughtfully while Joe pulls him back upright. “I don’t see why not. You never know, someday we might need to actually dance at one of these parties we infiltrate.”

“Come on,” Joe says, stepping clear of Nicky and offering her a hand. “Have you danced much before?”

“Not really a feature of the American public school system,” Nile says, not lying. She puts her hand in Joe’s, clumsily. He adjusts her grip until he’s happy with it - and he knows what he’s doing, Nile can tell it feels better this way - and smiles at her.

“We’ll start slow, yes?”

“Yes, please,” Nile says, trying to look a touch embarrassed despite her eagerness to try it. “I’m not gonna be nearly as good a partner as Nicky is.”

“Neither was Nicky, once. A soldier and a priest - he was useless for years after we met.”

“It’s true,” Andy throws in. “By the time Quỳnh and I found them, Nicky still hadn’t worked out which foot was which. Fell over himself at the drop of a hat.”

“I had Joe to catch me,” Nicky says. “What does it matter how many times I fell?”

Joe brings out one of his Arabic endearments, and turns back to Nile. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Nile says nervously. Somebody hits play on the music.

Nile does tolerably well for an idiot with no clue what they’re doing. She staggers along half a beat behind Joe, keeps looking over her shoulder to see where she’s going, and actually steps on Joe’s foot once. He laughs, still a perfect gentleman about it, but doesn’t object in the least when Andy calls time-out and tells Nicky to swap places with him.

Nile does slightly better with Nicky, though she could hardly do worse. She lets him lead her without turning around this time, but she’s clearly so stiff and uncomfortable about it that she doesn’t look like any kind of dancer. Nicky is a good sport and a patient teacher, but Nile thinks she catches him muttering the Italian for _how are you so bad at this_ at one point. Nile slips near the end of the track - Nicky catches her easily, because of course he does - and he brings them gently to a stop.

“Today was a hard job,” he says kindly. “If you’re tired, we can try again tomorrow.”

“Bullshit,” Andy says, standing up from her chair. “You and Joe just suck at teaching. Let me have a turn.”

Nile scrubs a hand over her face, playing up the tiredness. “If you’re sure, I think maybe I just don’t have it together tonight…”

“Come on, kid.” Andy winks at her where Joe and Nicky can’t see. “One more try. All you have to do is copy me.”

“Okay…”

Andy steals Nile’s phone back from Joe before he can pick the music, swipes through it rapidly, and hits play with the same grace and power as swinging her labrys.

For the opening bars, they go slow - Andy taps her foot and Nile follows, getting into sync with her. Andy raises her arms in a dramatic pose and Nile does the same, following Andy when she lifts her arms higher.

Then the music swells and they break into the good stuff.

A high kick, their toes just barely missing each other, a few swift steps of Irish dancing, and then Nile launches herself at Andy. Her foot comes down in Andy’s cupped hands, and the two of them fling her up and over in a backwards flip.

Nile lands lightly and bounces right back up into a split jump, Andy doing the same with the widest possible grin on her face. They do a quarter-turn so they’re in line with each other, one hand coming down on the other’s shoulder, and they go into the fun bits, all shimmying and attitude, moves so fast Nile gets dizzy with them.

They’ve practiced so many times it’s second nature by now; all Nile has to do is count the beats in her head and her body kind of does the rest on its own. Jump-kick, curtsey, one-eighty turn. Nile’s favorite part is the death drop, followed by a very martial arts style kick flip to stand up again. Nile goes up on her toes in a swan pose, which she holds until Andy sweeps her up in a spin. Nile gets her hands into Andy’s and _pushes_ into the right position, which ends with Nile braced high above Andy, their palms together and arms locked in two vertical columns. Nile rolls forward and Andy guides her down into another light landing.

They separate for what Nile calls the _dance battle sequence_. Andy starts, Nile clapping along as she dusts off her three-thousand-year-old moves.

Andy claims this is a traditional Scythian dance, which sounds fake but Nile doesn’t know enough about Scythia to dispute it. Nile’s seen as many viral videos of the Maori haka as anyone, and it’s a little like that: all intimidation and showing off, a display of skill until the other party simply fucks off instead of fighting you. Andy’s dance goes through all her favorite ways to commit murder, flowing from pose to pose with lethal elegance and not a little flaunting of her muscles.

Nile replies with her best moves, sharpened under Andy’s expert eye. For thirty seconds, Nile feels like her teenage self messing around with her friends after school again, all twerking and break-dancing. Then Nile goes straight back to the gymnastics and folds into a handstand. She holds that for a bar, then goes onto _one_ hand and holds that for another bar. That’s the longest she can do, but nobody needs to know that as long as she transitions _smoothly_ \- which she does - into a forward roll, and then she’s back on her feet with a toss of her head to make her braids whip around.

The last hard step Nile has to do is leap into Andy’s arms again, and let Andy chuck her skyward in a sideways, twisting roll they learned from watching too much figure skating. Nile keeps her spine long, arms in, legs straight, and leans into the rotation until Andy catches her. Then Nile’s back on her feet and they finish with a matching balletic spin on one foot, and high-five each other so hard Nile’s ears ring.

The music ends. Nile’s chest is heaving, adrenaline zipping through her. They freaking _nailed_ it.

Andy flicks her fringe out of her face. “That’s more like it.” She nods over Nile’s shoulder. “What did you think?”

Nile turns around. She’d almost forgotten Joe and Nicky were watching.

Nicky’s wearing one of his crooked smiles, impressed. Joe, meanwhile, looks mildly offended. “Nicky, my love, I think we’ve been had.”

“Most certainly,” Nicky says, and lifts his hands to applaud.

Joe scowls at him playfully. “Well, what are we going to do about it?”

Nicky puts his hands down again and looks at Joe thoughtfully. “I bet you Nile and I can outdance you and Andy.”

Joe’s jaw drops. “What?”

Nicky glances at Nile, eyes bright. “What do you say, Nile? Are you in?”

“Hell yeah, let’s stick it to the old people!”

Andy whacks Nile across the back of the head. “Who are you calling _old_?”

Nile squeaks. “Nicky, help!”

Nicky comes to her defense by picking her up to sit on his shoulders, safely out of reach of further attacks. After that it’s a standoff between him and Andy over whether Nicky gets tired or Andy gets bored first. Nile confidently backs Nicky in that particular contest and settles comfortably into her perch. Joe critiques Nicky’s form - _too much weight on your left foot, hayati -_ and passes Nile a chocolate bar.

~

Nicky turns out to be right about the dance practice coming in handy six months later, when they’re stuck at the bottom of an abandoned mineshaft with the only exit fifteen feet above them; Joe and Nicky yeet Nile high enough to catch the edge, pull herself up, and throw down a rope for the others to climb.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Apples](https://appleslostherpassword.tumblr.com/) for the beta. 
> 
> And here is [my tumblr](http://ao3-arkada.tumblr.com/) for people who like tumblrs.


End file.
